


The Rumor Mill

by LittlebutFiery



Series: The Knight and His Lady [4]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: 5+1 Things, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/M, Gossip, Team as Family, some background Royai too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-27
Updated: 2018-08-27
Packaged: 2019-07-03 09:31:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15816186
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittlebutFiery/pseuds/LittlebutFiery
Summary: Five times Team Mustang comforts Rebecca when she's upset about awful gossip, and one time she comforts one of them.





	The Rumor Mill

**Author's Note:**

> There are references in here to things that can go wrong with a pregnancy - birth defects, other abnormalities, postpartum depression, etc. They're brief and not graphic, but just a heads up!
> 
> Big thanks to @pigeonfluff and @This_is_not_my_Penname for their listening to me whine about this fic for 2 months, and a MASSIVE thanks to @1stTimeCaller for being the best beta ever. Go give them some love!

Rebecca Catalina was no stranger to getting looks as she walked by. She was pretty, she knew that much, and she often drew men’s eyes. Women’s, too, though for an entirely different reason — in the office the girls tended to regard her as an inspiration or role model, carefully watching her behavior so they could pattern theirs similarly.

Lately, though, she hadn’t been flattered by the looks she got.

This probably had something to do with the accompanying whispers and frowns, quiet words hidden behind hands, followed by less-than-flattering giggles.

She wasn’t stupid. She knew what those whispers and giggles meant, what prompted them.

Rebecca leaned back in her chair and sighed, rubbing a gentle hand on her protruding stomach. She’d hidden her pregnancy as long as she could, but as her stomach grew, so had the curiosity and gossip. At seven months along, there wasn’t really a point in trying to hide it anymore. Everyone knew, and everyone talked.

She had ignored it for as long as she could, but lately, it was wearing on her. Maybe it was the hormones, or nerves, or exhaustion. Rebecca wasn’t sure, but she knew she couldn’t brush off the rumors anymore.

They’d been innocuous at first, little titters of, “Do you think?” “...no, she can’t be.” “Wait, is she?” “Is Catalina pregnant?”

A few of the girls had congratulated her; Teresa even baked her a little cake.

Then the magic of life aspect of the news wore off and reality seemed to set in. As word got around her office, some of the more conservative officers — the men, mostly — had grumbled and shaken their heads, scowling about Catalina’s bastard child. They’d mourned the loss of traditional Amestrian values, bemoaning that one of the Führer’s most trusted lieutenants was having a child out of wedlock.

Rebecca had confronted them after a month of this, shoving her engagement ring in their faces and angrily telling them that her child’s father was most certainly in the picture, and there to stay.

Somehow, that had made things worse.

The little whispers had morphed from annoying rumors of a one-night stand gone wrong, to sighs of “Poor Lieutenant Havoc. He’s going to hate being tied down.”

Rebecca had kept this information away from Jean, knowing that he would probably have a conniption if he heard the assumption that he was only marrying her because she was pregnant. Jean’s history as a Casanova was something of a sore spot with him, now that he was trying to clean up his act in preparation for fatherhood. Hearing that people were betting on how long it would be before he was unfaithful wouldn’t be good for his already-high stress level.

She was doing her best to take the high road, ignore the criticisms and vicious rumors, but it was hard.

Really, really fucking hard.

Particularly today. The baby was moving a lot, making her feel faintly ill, and she had a massive stack of reports to catch up on. She was exhausted — Jean had been up all night with food poisoning, and though he had tried not to wake her, his constant retching was a little loud for her to ignore. All she wanted to do was go home and sleep. Well, eat ice cream, and then sleep. Jean had been feeling somewhat better by daybreak, hauling his still-nauseous ass to work, so she’d send him out to get ice cream when he got home.

As Rebecca forced herself back awake, trying to focus on the paperwork, she heard a poorly-hidden whisper from the cubicle next to hers.

“I heard Captain Havoc is sick,” one of the girls was saying.

The other laughed. “Yeah, right. He’s probably faking it so he could get some time away from Catalina.”

“Really? You think so?” the first girl asked, sounding surprised.

“I mean, I would. Poor guy. He obviously never wanted to get married. She probably bullied him into it,” the second one said. “If I were him, I’d do whatever I had to to still get out and have some fun.”

Rebecca had to blink back angry tears. Why was it so hard for everyone to believe that Jean loved her, and that she loved him? That  _ he _ had proposed to  _ her _ , of his own goddamn free will, and that he kept a countdown in their kitchen of days until their wedding? No one seemed to understand that Jean was so much more than they thought, that on weekends he was content to do nothing but lay in bed for hours, massaging her shoulders and murmuring sweet nothings to her and their baby.

Why did everyone think that they were so fucking worthless?

“Rebecca?”

She jumped at the soft voice, whirling around in alarm, only to find Kain Fuery standing there, a worried look in his wide eyes.

“God, Kain, you scared me,” Rebecca breathed, rubbing her temples.

“Sorry,” Fuery shrugged sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to.”

“You’re okay,” Rebecca waved him off, willing her heart rate to slow. “What’s up?”

“Havoc asked me to bring this over to you,” Fuery replied, handing her a small envelope. “He’s tied up in a meeting with the boss, but I managed to take my lunch break before the meeting started.”

Rebecca opened it, finding some cenz and a little note inside. The note read simply, “ _ I’ll be home late tonight, blame the chief. Here’s some cash to treat yourself to that ice cream I forgot to get at the store. This still counts as buying it for you, right? Love you, sweetie. Jean. _ ”

She smiled, tucking the envelope in her purse. “Thanks, Kain. You didn’t have to spend your lunch break running errands for Jean, but I appreciate it.”

Fuery smiled too. “No problem.”

He turned to go as the whispers started back up. One of the girls was saying, “I’m debating getting in on that bet.”

“Which one?” the second laughed. “There’s so many going on.”

“How much longer it’ll be before Havoc chickens out and breaks off the engagement,” the first said.

“I didn’t realize we had one for that,” the second replied. “I might get in on that, too. There’s no way he’ll go through with it.”

Rebecca squeezed her eyes shut, clenching her fists as she willed herself not to cry. She wasn’t going to cry, she wasn’t going to cry, she wasn’t…

“Rebecca?” Fuery asked.

She opened her eyes to see him still standing there, sadness written all over his baby-cheeked face. He asked, “Does this happen a lot?”

She nodded. “Every day.”

“Why don’t you talk to someone? That’s harassment,” Fuery said.

Rebecca laughed darkly. “If I tell someone, it’ll just get worse.”

He frowned, thinking. Rebecca went on weakly, “It’s no big deal. I’m used to it. Don’t worry about it.”

“If it were no big deal, you wouldn’t be crying,” Fuery objected softly.

“I…” Rebecca started to protest, but stopped. What was there to say? He was right.

Fuery sat down on Rebecca’s little file locker, offering her a kind smile. “Um… not sure it’ll help, but can I say something?”

Rebecca nodded, brushing away her unwanted tears.

He cleared his throat and went on, a little nervously, “Well… um… I promise this’ll make sense in a second. So, uh, this probably isn’t a big surprise, but when I was a kid I got bullied. A lot.”

Rebecca frowned, unsure of how that was supposed to be helpful, but Fuery merely chuckled softly. “Hold your gasps till the end, there’s more.”

Rebecca smiled sadly and waited for him to continue. In truth, she  _ wasn’t _ surprised – he was shy, quiet, and more than a little nerdy, with a heart bigger than Amestris. He was the perfect target for bullies, but that didn’t make her any less sad to hear it.

“I… didn’t tell anybody, for a while. Like you said: I knew if I told anybody, it would just get worse,” Fuery said. “But one day I came home with broken glasses and a black eye, and my mom put two and two together. And what she told me after that, I’ll never forget.”

Rebecca cocked her head, curious. Fuery explained, “She told me that people like that pick on people because they want to make themselves feel better. It’s not about the person they’re hurting. It’s about making themselves feel big and strong and powerful. And usually, they pick people that they’re jealous of to make feel bad.”

She chuckled darkly at his last sentence, so he frowned and went on, more aggressively. “I’m not kidding! I didn’t believe that at first, either. But then I realized, sure, maybe I wasn’t a popular kid, or sporty, or anything like that. But people liked me because I was nice, and I worked hard and got good grades. And the boys that picked on me didn’t have any of that. And they were jealous.”

When Rebecca didn’t quite put it together, Fuery continued, “Everybody that’s talking bad about you? They’re jealous. They want what you have.”

Again, she laughed bitterly. “What do I have? I’m pregnant, unmarried, and broke.”

Fuery scowled. “You’re a confident person who’s never needed anyone’s approval. You’re going to be a mom, and you’re engaged to somebody who loves you more than anything else on earth. You’ve got friends who would do anything for you. I think you’ve got a lot to be jealous of.”

Rebecca blinked hard, tears prickling at her eyes yet again. Shit, Fuery was right. He went on, “I know it’s really hard. Believe me, I know. You want to get angry and make the bullies hurt right back. But really… in some ways, you kinda feel bad for them. You don’t need to be nice to them, or anything. It’s usually best to just ignore them. But just know that you’re a good person and you’ve got stuff going for you, and  _ that’s _ why everyone’s being awful. So just remember the good things, and then the bad things won’t bother you as much.”

“Thank you,” Rebecca said, voice choked with tears, as she leaned forward to pull Fuery into a hug. He froze for a moment, not sure what to do, before gently hugging her back. “Thank you, Kain. I really needed that.”

“No problem,” he smiled, straightening his glasses, once Rebecca released him. He glanced down at his watch and cried, “Shoot, I’m going to be late getting back. See you later!”

With this he bolted out of the office, nearly plowing over one of the girls who had just been gossiping. Rebecca watched him go with a smile. Fuery was a good kid — a little naïve, maybe, but a good guy. She was glad she’d been adopted into the little group of friends by virtue of her relationship with Jean. It was nice to have guys like him around.   
  


Rebecca’s mother had told her that in addition to the miserable physical side-effects of pregnancy — backaches, morning sickness, fatigue, and being the size of a goddamn tank — there was a side-effect people rarely thought to warn expecting mothers about.

Namely, people trying to give unsolicited advice.

Some of the advice Rebecca had been given was astonishingly helpful, primarily from some of the younger mothers she knew. Cara in particular had been patient and kind with her, reminding her that even if she made mistakes, the kid was going to turn out okay.

Some advice was… tolerable. The older women loved to throw all kinds of old wives’ tales at her, from how to tell the gender to what foods to avoid. It was all a load of bullshit, in her opinion. In those regards, she was sticking to her doctor’s advice.

And then there were the men. Most of them who weren’t gossiping about her generally did mean well, but had no damn clue how to show it.

Gareth was a prime example, having cornered her just outside the records room. Her hands were full of files Grumman had asked for, and they were getting heavy, but Gareth didn’t seem to notice. Beside him, Sarah was blithely smiling and nodding along, apparently oblivious to Rebecca’s discomfort.

“How’s the Captain handling everything?” Gareth asked.

It took Rebecca a moment to drag herself out of her thoughts, as she’d tuned him out a solid five minutes prior. She managed, “Oh, he’s fine.”

“Really? I was a nervous wreck when my wife was pregnant,” Gareth said.

“Why?” Sarah asked. Rebecca had to bite back a sigh. Sarah really didn’t need to encourage him, or it was going to be midnight by the time she escaped with these files.

“I mean, it’s scary stuff!” Gareth exclaimed. “Having a baby isn’t a walk in the park.”

“Yes, I’m well aware,” Rebecca scowled. “Seeing as I’m having one, and all.”

“I can’t believe Captain Havoc isn’t nervous,” Gareth shook his head, frowning. “I thought he cared more than that.”

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked, and Rebecca resisted the urge to strangle her.

“There’s so much that can go wrong!” Gareth said. Rebecca felt a little chill go down her spine at those words. She’d tried not to think too much about it, but…

He continued, only adding to her newfound anxiety, “There’s the risk of dying in childbirth, or the baby not making it, or late-term miscarriages, or postpartum depression, or…”

“Lieutenant Catalina?”

Rebecca whirled around, trying to hold back tears as she turned towards the familiar voice. Falman was standing there, papers in his hands as well, an eyebrow raised as he took in the scene.

“Y-yes?” Rebecca managed, her voice strangled.

“I think you might have one of the files I need to take a look at. Let’s go figure out who has what, and when we need it by,” Falman replied, nodding at her stack of papers.

“Right,” Rebecca agreed weakly. “Um… g-good talking to you, Gareth. Sarah.”

“We’ll have to chat more later!” Gareth smiled. Rebecca tried to offer a smile in return, though it felt more like a grimace. She’d rather do no such thing.

She followed Falman out of the records room and into an empty breakroom, where he set his papers down and pulled out a chair for her. Rebecca fell heavily into it, still wrapped up in Gareth’s words, trying as hard as she could to push the thoughts of miscarriage and death from her mind.

“So… which file did you need?” she finally thought to ask, looking down at the stack of files she held.

“Oh, I didn’t need any of them. You just looked uncomfortable,” Falman shrugged.

Rebecca managed a small smile, relief and warmth spreading in her chest. “Thank you.”

“I wish I had gotten there sooner,” Falman frowned. “How long were you stuck there?”

“Long enough,” Rebecca managed.

Falman sighed. “People ought to learn when to say something and when to keep their mouths shut.”

“Y-yeah,” Rebecca nodded weakly. She sighed. “He was the worst, but… he definitely wasn’t the first.”

“Other people have been giving you grief?” Falman asked.

“Nothing that bad,” Rebecca quickly waved him off. “Nobody else is that dumb.”

“What have they been saying?”

Rebecca’s lip trembled for a moment as she recalled all the things she’d been forcibly pushing from her mind. She practically whimpered, “Something’ll go wrong. Anything. I’ll go into labor too early, or it’ll be a breech birth, or I’ll bleed too much, or I’ll have a miscarriage, or… I’ll…”

She stopped, voice choked by tears. Fuck, she wasn’t proud of this. It was only a few days earlier that she’d been crying to Fuery. This wasn’t something she wanted to make a habit of.

Falman walked over to her, concern clear on his face, and Rebecca threw her arms around him and cried into his chest. He froze, his body going rigid with surprise, before awkwardly patting her shoulder.

When her tears began to slow, he said, “I’m… not very good at cheering people up, but I might be able to help?”

“You sure can’t make it worse,” Rebecca laughed bitterly.

“Things like that do happen,” Falman began. “Things do go wrong.”

“...you really aren’t good at this,” Rebecca grumbled.

“...but you realize how rare stuff like that is, right?” he went on.

“What?” Rebecca asked.

“Amestris has good doctors, particularly here in Central. You’re going to be in good hands,” Falman said, offering a little smile. “I really don’t think you have anything to worry about. If Havoc doesn’t get the best doctors on your case, the chief sure will.”

“But… what Gareth mentioned…” Rebecca protested.

“...is extremely unlikely to happen,” Falman shook his head. “I already said that. Everything you mentioned is rare.”

“Rare is relative,” Rebecca said, not buying it.

Falman sat down, fixing her with a hard look. “Here. You tell me something you’re scared of, and I’ll tell you what’s more likely to happen than that.”

“I’m really not sure that’s going to help…” Rebecca shook her head, eyeing the door and contemplating making yet another escape.

“Humor me,” Falman persisted.

“O-okay,” she conceded, sighing. “I’m afraid I’m going to die in childbirth.”

“You’re more likely to die falling out of bed,” Falman replied.

“What? How?” Rebecca demanded, surprised.

Falman shrugged. “That’s not the important part. Think you’re likely to die falling out of bed anytime soon?”

“Well, no, that’s just silly…” Rebecca laughed nervously.

“Statistics show that it’s more likely than what you’re afraid of,” Falman said. “Next.”

“I… um… have heard a lot about late-term miscarriages…” Rebecca admitted, barely willing to say the words aloud.

“It’s more likely you’ll get bitten by a shark than lose the baby this late-term,” Falman replied.

It took Rebecca a moment to retort, “Amestris is landlocked. We don’t even have sharks.”

“Well, then don’t take any vacations to the Aerugian coast anytime soon,” Falman’s lips quirked in a smile. “Next.”

“I…er...what about breech births? Those are bad…” Rebecca managed.

“You’re more likely to win the lottery.”

Rebecca felt some of the tension leave her body, finally allowing her to breathe again. “How do you even know all this stuff, anyway?”

Falman laughed. “I’m the oldest of a lot of children. When you’re surrounded by younger siblings and fretting women, you pick up some things.”

She nodded before the nerves came rushing back and she blurted out,  "Okay, but what about postpartum depression? That's not rare at all!"

"That's easy. Do you know the success rate of people treated for postpartum depression?"

Rebecca shrugged.

"100%."

She blinked. "Wait, really?"

"Yes. Treatment of overall depression has a success rate of 80%, and postpartum depression is only temporary. There is no record of a woman being diagnosed with postpartum depression and then not being treated." His expression turned a little more serious and he leaned towards her. "The key word there is 'treated'. Nobody can help you if they don't know that you need help, so you need to be vigilant after you have the baby, and if you think you may be exhibiting symptoms, you need to tell someone."

“Okay,” Rebecca nodded. “I… I will.”

They were quiet for a moment before he asked, almost hesitantly, “...do you feel a little better?”

“A little bit, yes,” Rebecca smiled. “Thank you.”

“I wish I could help more,” Falman shrugged, looking faintly embarrassed. “But I don’t want you worrying when you really don’t need to.”

“You really think everything will work out?” Rebecca pressed, feeling some of her anxiety return yet again. What if he’d just been saying that to make her feel better? What if…

“I honestly do. You’re young and healthy, and cigarettes aside, so is Havoc. I don’t know why anything might go wrong. You’re going to have Central’s best doctors looking after you at the hospital, and a  _ lot _ of friends looking after you when you’re discharged. I truly don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Falman insisted. He paused, saw that Rebecca wasn’t quite convinced, and added, “Except for sharks.”

Finally, this drew a little giggle from Rebecca, before she dissolved into full-blown laughter. When her laughs slowed, she said, “Thank you, Vato. It means a lot.”

“My pleasure,” Falman smiled. “Let one of us know if Gareth keeps giving you a hard time, alright? Or anyone else. I’m sure the boss would be happy to give them some menial duties to remind them of their place.”

Rebecca chuckled. “I’m okay. I will be, at least. I’ll just tell Gareth where to shove it if he brings the topic back up.”

“You’re sure you’re okay?” Falman asked, hesitating.

“I will be,” Rebecca nodded. “Thank you.”

Falman nodded. “If anybody else thinks of anything to scare you with, you know where to find me. I’m sure I have some more statistics that can come in handy.”

Rebecca heaved herself to her feet, picking her pile of papers back up with a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

She hugged him again, earning another awkward pat on the shoulder, before beginning her waddle back to her desk.

When she sat back down heavily, dreading the amount of paperwork she was about to do, she picked up a sticky note and drew a shark on it to remind her of what Falman had said.

She just had to keep her head up, and her feet out of any large bodies of water, and she’d be fine.

 

Lunch was something Jean worriedly  _ insisted _ Rebecca continue to eat, even though she rarely felt like it, with her stomach squashed as it was by the baby. Most of her meals were practically just snacks at this point, something Jean fretted over constantly.

She and Jean did their best to eat lunch together, though some days their schedules — usually his, due to the number of meetings his promotion required he attend — prevented it. Those days, he usually sent Breda in his place.

Jean  _ claimed _ it was so she wouldn’t have to eat alone, but she knew it was so that someone could keep an eye on her and ensure she did actually eat. She didn’t mind, though; she enjoyed the company.

“You gonna eat your rabbit food, Catalina?” Breda asked through a mouthful of sandwich, nodding at her half-eaten salad.

“It’s not rabbit food,” Rebecca scowled, though she halfheartedly picked at the lettuce. She really wasn’t in the mood to eat it, but she knew she had to, lest Breda tease her and Jean worry about her. “You know, a salad once in a while wouldn’t kill you.”

“You might be able to pull that mama bear shit on Jean now, but it won’t work on me,” Breda rolled his eyes, taking another bite from his sandwich.

She laughed. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You’ll change your tune someday.”

Breda snorted, not buying it. He opened his mouth to respond when two sergeants walked by, their lunch trays in their hands. One of them waved at Breda, while the other eyed Rebecca and whispered to her companion. She wasn’t as quiet as she intended, though, her murmur of, “Oh, look, it’s Havoc’s whore,” reaching Rebecca and Breda as the two women began to walk away.

“I bet her baby isn’t even his,” the first sergeant agreed, giggling. “God knows the two of them have slept around enough.”

“I’d be shocked if it  _ was _ his,” the second one nodded. “She’s probably just saying that since she’s after his money. He  _ did _ just get promoted.”

Their conversation became inaudible as they walked further away, but Rebecca knew it wasn’t getting any kinder. Yet again, tears welled in her eyes. This wasn’t even the first time she’d heard whispers to that effect, but...they were usually somewhat more veiled.

It took her a moment to realize that across the table, Breda had set his half-eaten sandwich down and was glaring at the two women. He cleared his throat and called, “Sergeants!”

“Heymans, please, this isn’t worth it,” Rebecca pleaded, very much wishing she could sink into the floor, very much  _ not _ wanting to face the women.

“Oh, honey. It certainly is,” Breda grinned. “You’re Jean’s girl. That means if anybody fucks with you, they fuck with  _ me _ .”

The sergeants came back towards their table, looking curious. The first one asked, “Yes, Lieutenant Breda?”

“You know, I believe courts-martial can be arranged for things like slander,” Breda replied, a menacing smile across his face.

“Sir?” the second sergeant asked, surprised.

“If you’re going to talk shit about someone, you’d damn well better learn how to whisper,” Breda said. Both women paled considerably. “Particularly when you’re around people who might take offense to what you’re saying.”

“I… er…” the first woman stammered. “...it was a joke.”

“Yeah, well, you’re not funny,” Breda scowled. “A joke has a punchline. Rebecca’s not one.”

“No need to get all worked up about some harmless gossip,” the second one snapped back. “Cool off.”

“Excuse me?” Breda demanded, a hard glint appearing in his eyes. “You might want to watch how you talk to a superior officer.”

“You heard me,” the second woman huffed. “Don’t be so defensive about other people’s business. Unless you’re fucking them too?”

Rebecca and the other sergeant stared at her in horror. Fury flashed through Breda’s eyes for only a moment before a smug smile spread across his face. “I think you’ve been reading a few too many romance novels, Sergeant…?”

“Cadwell,” the woman said with a scowl. “Are we dismissed, sir?”

“Absolutely,” Breda nodded, that grin not shrinking an inch.

Sergeant Cadwell turned on her heel and left, her friend practically running to get away from Breda and Rebecca.

Rebecca sighed as Breda picked his sandwich back up. “I told you it wasn’t worth it. You just tossed some more fuel on the fire. Now they’re going to be talking about you, too.”

“Let them say what they want about me, I don’t care,” Breda waved her off. “People have thought Jean and I were a thing since back in our academy days. That’s nothing new.”

“You’re one of my best friends, and Jean’s too. I don’t want you caught up in this,” Rebecca insisted. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Jeez, do either of you two listen? I knew Jean was as thick as a brick sometimes, but I thought you were a little bit sharper than that. You’re my friends. I don’t just let people talk shit about my friends. I already said that.”

“Yeah, well, they talked shit about Jean and me  _ and _ now you’re dragged into it,” Rebecca snapped. “Good work there.”

Breda laughed, only making Rebecca’s scowl deepen. “You think I’m gonna take that lying down? You don’t know me as well as I thought.”

“You let them walk off without saying anything!” Rebecca argued.

“I needed to get the bitch’s last name,” Breda replied. “Believe me, they’ll get their due.”

Rebecca blinked, confused. Breda went on, “I know the blonde one. Sergeant Hargrave. She’s not the sharpest tool, but she’s not a complete waste of space. I’ll talk to the boss, and get her some shitty assignments for the next week or so. I sense a lot of bullshit filing and maybe some bathroom cleaning in her future.”

“You really think she’ll learn her lesson from scrubbing a few toilets?” Rebecca raised a skeptical eyebrow. “I doubt she’d put two and two together.”

“Oh, I’ll make sure she knows that Lieutenant Breda suggested her for the assignments,” Breda grinned. “She’ll know.”

“And Sergeant Cadwell?” Rebecca asked.

“I hear General Armstrong is good for shaping up wayward soldiers,” Breda chuckled. “Plus, she likes Jean, for whatever reason, so she’ll have a field day with the bitch who talked shit about him.”

“That seems… childish,” Rebecca said after a moment. “I don’t want to...be like them.”

“You’re not. I am,” Breda smiled. “Look, Becca. Jean loves you more than anything. I’ve never seen the idiot so happy. You’re all he ever talks about anymore, you and the baby. He’s been through a lot of shit, yeah? After he got paralyzed… I didn’t think I’d see him happy again. But now he’s got you. And I ain’t gonna let anything mess that up, you hear? ‘Specially not any mouthy brats.”

Rebecca smiled. “You’re going soft, Heymans.”

Breda chuckled. “Maybe so. Wouldn’t be the worst thing. Now, you gonna eat your damn rabbit food or not? Jean’s gonna be on my ass if you don’t eat.”

“For everything you said about me being a mama bear, you’re pretty damn good at mothering, too,” Rebecca scowled, hardly meaning it. She picked her fork back up and dug into her salad.

“Yeah, well, I gotta get practice being a good uncle,” Breda said. Rebecca couldn’t help but smile at the soft look on his his face. “God have mercy on anybody who poses any risk of being a bad influence on baby Havoc.”

“You’re gonna be a great uncle,” Rebecca smiled. “You’re probably going to be around for a lot more birthdays and milestones than you’ll know what to do with.”

“Ain’t no probably,” Heymans chuckled. “Jean’s my best pal. I’m gonna be pretty damn offended if I don’t get invited to… whatever kinds of celebrations you have for babies.”

By the time they finished lunch, bantering and bickering like siblings, Rebecca had nearly forgotten what the women had been saying about her and Jean. Breda was good at that, strategically dealing with issues and turning the attention to other things.

He’d be good at deflecting Jean’s curiosity, too. They both knew that the last thing Jean needed was to find out about the gossip flying around, and Breda was just as determined to protect him from it as Rebecca was.

 

Though she knew they were necessary, Rebecca  _ hated _ her doctor’s appointments. Every two weeks she had to go back to the little clinic, with its overly-friendly receptionist and weird sterile smell, only to be told everything was fine. It was a waste of her and Jean’s money, money they were desperately saving for the wedding and the baby.

So here she sat, twiddling her thumbs and waiting for Dr. Barnes to come into the exam room. He was a kind man, patiently fielding all of her questions and concerns — as well as Jean’s, the one time Rebecca made the mistake of letting him tag along. Still, she’d rather be just about anywhere but here.

Finally, the door opened, and Dr. Barnes entered with a pleasant, “Good morning, Miss Catalina. How are you feeling today?”

“As good as I can be, considering I’m carrying around another human being,” Rebecca said with a smile.

“Excellent. Well, your lab work all came back clean, so keep doing what you’re doing,” Dr. Barnes nodded.

“Jean won’t be happy to hear that,” Rebecca laughed. “He really misses having chocolate around the house. But since I can’t eat it, he feels bad keeping it at home.”

“He’s certainly a trooper,” Dr. Barnes chuckled. “Only a little while longer, and then you’re free to eat as much chocolate as you like. I’m certainly glad you’ve stuck to the diet we outlined for you. It’ll ensure your health, and the baby’s.”

“So, is everything still going well? Is there a way to check?” Rebecca asked, feeling childish. She didn’t really understand a lot of the medical stuff, try as she might, but she just wanted to know that everything was alright.

“Well, as far as we can tell, everything is going swimmingly,” Dr. Barnes said. “Technology being what it is, there’s only so much information we can gather. Now, given that you and the baby’s father are both young and healthy, there shouldn’t be any problems.”

“Shouldn’t?” Rebecca echoed. That didn’t sound reassuring.

“Unfortunately, this isn’t an exact science. There’s always a chance, however remote, of something going wrong,” Dr. Barnes admitted.

“Like what?” Rebecca demanded, her heart leaping into her throat.

“Miss Catalina, I really don’t want to add any unnecessary stress into your life,” Dr. Barnes shook his head.

“What can go wrong?” Rebecca demanded again.

The doctor sighed. “There’s always a risk of birth defects, whether they’re from a failure to develop properly, or from something during birth. Most are minor, and either don’t require surgery, or are very easily fixed with a minor procedure. As I said, though, you and your fiance are both very healthy, and the risk of any birth defect is extraordinarily small.”

“Right,” Rebecca nodded.

She stayed in a distracted daze for the rest of the appointment, her cab ride back to the office, and lunch. What if something  _ was _ wrong? What if her baby had something wrong with it? Shit, would she be ready to take care of a child with a disability? She wasn’t even sure she was ready to take care of a perfectly healthy baby.

Somehow, no one seemed to notice the fog she was in, happily chatting away while she nodded along blandly. Grumman gave her some papers to deliver to Mustang, and she remained wrapped up in her thoughts the entire walk to the General’s office. The team was out of the office when she arrived, save Mustang, who was trying very hard to pretend to read a file.

Rebecca handed him the papers, mumbling something about the Fuhrer, and turned to go when she belatedly realized he’d asked her a question.

She turned back to face him and dumbly asked, “Sorry, what?”

Mustang chuckled and offered that damn smug smirk Rebecca knew Riza loved. “I asked how you and the baby are doing. Havoc mentioned you had a checkup today.”

“I, uh, it’s… everything’s… fine,” Rebecca stammered.

The General quirked an eyebrow. “Hmm, not very convincing.”

“Look, it’s been… a day,” Rebecca sighed.

“Is everything alright?” Mustang asked. There was something gentle in his voice, something that sounded like genuine concern.

“I…” Rebecca tried, before her throat grew tight. No, damn it, she was  _ not _ going to cry in front of Roy goddamn Mustang.

“Have a seat,” Mustang practically ordered, and Rebecca obeyed, reluctantly sitting down in the rickety chair in front of his desk. He began to rummage around in his desk drawers for something while asking, “So, what’s going on?”

“It’s really nothing,” Rebecca insisted.

“If you don’t tell me, I’ll just get it out of Riza,” Mustang chuckled.

“I haven’t told her, either,” Rebecca scowled.

“Oh. Well, then, I’ll have to enlighten her, once you enlighten me,” Mustang said. He finally found what he was looking for, tossing a candy bar across his desk. Rebecca looked at it and smiled, realizing it was white chocolate — the only kind her doctor was currently permitting her to eat. “What’s on your mind, Lieutenant?”

Rebecca sighed, knowing Mustang wouldn’t easily let the issue drop. “I just… the doctor said something and I got… scared.”

“Oh?” Mustang asked. He frowned when he realized the candy bar was untouched, so he opened it and pushed it back towards her. “What did he say?”

“Well, he said that since Jean and I are healthy, the baby probably will be too,” Rebecca said, breaking off a piece of the chocolate.

“...Isn’t that a good thing?” Mustang asked, sounding confused.

“He said  _ probably _ ,” Rebecca repeated. “Not definitely.”

“Nothing like that is ever definite,” Mustang shook his head. “Probably is as good as it’s going to get.”

“But…” Rebecca whispered. “What if… probably isn’t good enough?”

Mustang eyed her oddly. “What do you mean?”

“What if… something’s wrong?” Rebecca asked. “I… don’t know what I’d do.”

“Well, knowing you and Havoc, you’d love the hell out of that baby regardless,” Mustang said. “Some days I think Hughes’ ghost possessed Havoc, with the way he talks about you and Baby Havoc.”

“I mean, of course we will,” Rebecca managed. “But… I don’t know if… I’d be able to take care of it, if something were wrong…”

Mustang laughed loudly, startling Rebecca. After a moment he stopped laughing and said, “Wait, you’re serious. I… I thought you were joking.”

“Of course I’m not joking!” Rebecca snapped. “It’s not something to joke about!”

“You, Rebecca Catalina, doubt your ability to take care of someone with a disability?” Mustang asked. When Rebecca stared at him blankly, he went on, “You don’t see how funny that is?”

“No! It’s not funny!” Rebecca frowned.

“Lieutenant. If I recall correctly — and, granted, my memory isn’t Falman’s — didn’t you begin seeing Havoc when he was paralyzed?” Mustang said.

“Well, yes, but…” Rebecca protested weakly.

“I’ve heard more stories from Havoc than I care to count or remember about how you took care of him then,” Mustang went on. “Hell, he said you two became a couple when you were taking care of him for a weekend when his family was out of town. And you honestly think you wouldn’t be able to take care of a child that might, possibly, have a disability?”

“It was different!” Rebecca argued. “I… just… it’s not the same.”

“No, it’s not,” Mustang shook his head. “You easily could have walked away from that situation. You didn’t owe Havoc anything, particularly not at first. And yet you took it upon yourself to help and care for him, with no intention of being rewarded. You grew to love him despite the challenges. This is your own child we’re talking about here — someone you already love right out the gate. Don’t you think you’d be just as capable, if not more? I know there’s not a thing you wouldn’t do for your family. If your child  _ does _ have a disability… you’ll make it work. I have complete confidence in you.”

Rebecca narrowed her eyes. “Who are you, and what have you done with General Hothead?”

Mustang laughed again. “Riza has been rubbing off on me, I suppose.”

“Well, stop it. You being nice is weirding me out,” Rebecca scowled.

“Fair enough,” Mustang shrugged. “If you’d rather, Lieutenant, consider this an order. Give yourself some credit. Come what may, you and Havoc will be excellent parents. I have to listen to his babbling and worrying about you and the baby enough — I don’t need it from you, too. So, enough with the pity party.”

Rebecca smiled. “Yes, sir.”

She rose to leave, adding, “If you could get that paperwork done as soon as possible. The Führer would like it this afternoon.”

Mustang sighed and frowned petulantly at the papers Rebecca had given him. She laughed and said, “Come on, sir. Enough with the pity party!”

With this, she flounced out the door, an extra spring in her step as she heard Mustang groan in frustration.   
  


“It’s so good to get out of the office for a little bit,” Riza said with a smile as they sat down outside their favorite café for lunch. “Sometimes I feel like I live there.”

“You kind of do,” Rebecca laughed. “I thought  _ Jean _ stayed late these days, but he says you and Mustang are always still there when he leaves.”

“There’s a lot to be done with the Ishvalan Reconstruction,” Riza said simply. “If we don’t do it, it won’t get done.”

“Doing it, huh?” Rebecca teased, taking a sip of her water. “That’s what you two have been staying late for?”

Riza scowled. “Becca…”

“Come on, let me live vicariously through you. I haven’t gotten any in months, thanks to the fact I’m the size of a whale,” Rebecca whined, rubbing her stomach. “...and the fact that I think Jean thinks I’m made of glass. Honestly, the other day I sneezed and he just about had a heart attack thinking I hurt myself.”

Riza’s scowl softened into a smile. “He really cares about you. I don’t think he entirely knows how to show just how much, sometimes.”

“Yeah, I know,” Rebecca waved her off, albeit with a smile of her own. “He’s a dork.”

“He’s  _ your _ dork,” Riza said, her smile growing. “Don’t pretend like you don’t care about him just as much.”

“You got me,” Rebecca conceded, laughing. She quieted a little and went on, “I… wasn’t really expecting any of this to happen, with the baby and the shotgun wedding, and all that… but… I’m really happy that I’m marrying him.”

“I can’t think of two people I’d rather see happy,” Riza said. “You two deserve this.”

Rebecca looked away, all the whispers and sneers and giggles she’d heard in the past few weeks coming back at all once. Did… did they really deserve to be happy? Did  _ she _ deserve to be happy?

“Becca?” Riza asked, drawing Rebecca out of her thoughts. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Rebecca replied quickly, voice strangled. “Nothing’s wrong.”

Riza narrowed her eyes, not buying it. “Come on, Becca. You know you can tell me anything. What’s on your mind?”

“I… just…” Rebecca began, then stopped. Yet again, tears began to well in her eyes. “It’s… it’s nothing.”

“It’s okay to be nervous,” Riza said soothingly. “There’s a lot of changes coming up. You don’t need to be embarrassed about that.”

Well, Riza wasn’t  _ entirely _ wrong. Rebecca was indeed nervous and embarrassed, but not for the reasons Riza thought. How could she  _ not _ , when there were bets going around regarding how long the marriage would last? She’d caught wind that someone had put money on less than three months, and that thought broke Rebecca’s heart. She loved Jean more than anything, and to think that things could go so catastrophically wrong… that she could lose him, especially so quickly…

“...Unless something else is on your mind?” Riza prompted gently. “Are you having second thoughts about the wedding?”

Even Riza didn’t think that they’d stay true to each other? If Riza didn’t… no one would. Rebecca looked at her best friend a moment, lip trembling, before she began to sob.

“Becca?” Riza demanded immediately, concern thick in her voice. “Becca… what’s wrong?”

Rebecca shook her head, unable to speak, as she pressed her hands to her face to muffle her crying. God, it hurt so much. No one believed in her, or Jean, much less the two of them together. According to everyone, if the marriage worked out — which it wouldn’t — they’d be miserable, staying together only for the baby they’d manage to raise all wrong. Honestly, the kind thing to do for everyone would be to break off the engagement and give up the baby for adoption.

But she was selfish and terrible, and didn’t want to lose either of them. She loved Jean more than anything else, except their baby. She would give up everything she had for the two of them. But… maybe the right thing was to give  _ them _ up.

“Becca,” Riza murmured from right next to her, pulling her into a hug. “Becca, dear, whatever it is, it’s going to be okay. I promise. I’m here, and Jean’s here, and all your friends are here.”

“Shut up!” Rebecca cried, pushing Riza away. “You don’t get to sound like everybody else and then turn around and tell me it’s okay! You’re full of shit, just like everyone else!”

“What?” Riza managed weakly, shock and hurt in her wide eyes.

“You asked if I was getting cold feet!” Rebecca accused, tears streaming down her cheeks. “You think this is going to be a disaster, just like everybody else does! Newsflash, and I don’t know why it’s so fucking hard to believe, but I love Jean and he loves me!”

“I—” Riza began.

“No, I said shut up!” Rebecca yelled. “I thought if anybody would believe in me and Jean, it was you! And you think we’re just as fucking awful as everybody else does! You’re in on the bets, too, aren’t you? Well, how long do  _ you _ think it’s going to last, huh? Before Jean gets bored of me and goes and sleeps around? Before everything falls apart? Because I can’t wait to prove you and everybody else wrong!”

She tried to get out another sentence, another angry accusation, but her throat tightened with emotion and she dissolved back into wordless sobs, hiding her face in her hands again.

“Becca, let’s go somewhere a little quieter and talk about this,” Riza mumbled, a strange tone in her voice.

“Miss, is everything all right?” it was the waiter’s concerned voice. Great, another person Rebecca didn’t want to talk to.

“Yes, she’ll be fine. My friend isn’t… isn’t feeling well today. I think she might need a cool rag for her forehead. And some privacy. Do you have a restroom?” Riza managed.

“Yes, miss, of course. It’s inside, in the back of the café.” The waiter pointed over his left shoulder.

Rebecca didn’t even have the will to shake off Riza’s gentle grip as Riza pulled her to her feet, ushering her inside the restaurant. The blonde guided her quickly to the bathroom, locking the door behind them.

“Are you going to tell me what you’re talking about?” Riza demanded.

Rebecca finally looked up from her hands, finding a strange expression on her friend’s face. Riza looked… frustrated, and upset, and more than a little bit hurt. Why… why did she look like that?

“I—” Rebecca tried.

“I know you’ve been under a lot of stress,” Riza went on. “Jean’s been working long hours since his promotion, and this is your first child, and you’ve been busy too, but… what the hell are you talking about?”

“Do you really not know?” Rebecca asked weakly.

“Know what?” Riza frowned.

Rebecca sighed, her previous anger replaced with guilt. Of course Riza didn’t know — who would be stupid enough to badmouth her or Jean in front of their oldest and most loyal friend? Riza was known to be stern and straight-laced, incredibly intolerant of pettiness and bullshit. Even the stupidest of gossipers knew better than to talk in front of Riza. Of course she didn’t know. She… hadn’t meant anything by her earlier comment. Rebecca had yelled at her for absolutely no reason.

“Riza, I’m so sorry,” Rebecca wailed, throwing her arms around her friend. “Fuck, you didn’t even know what I was yelling about… I’m such a bitch.”

“You’re not a bitch,” Riza immediately argued. “You’re tired and stressed and pregnant. It’s okay.”

Rebecca continued to cry, so Riza gently stroked her hair, murmuring reassurances that she was there and would stay with her. When the worst of Rebecca’s tears had passed, Riza asked gently, “Becca, will you please tell me what’s going on?”

“Everybody’s been awful about this whole mess,” Rebecca began weakly, roughly brushing her tears away with the back of her hand.

Riza frowned again. “That must be what Heymans, Kain, and Vato were muttering about the other day. What have people been doing?”

“What  _ haven’t _ they been doing?” Rebecca laughed, her voice strangled. “When they’re not gossiping, they’re taking bets or trying to scare the shit out of me.”

There was a clear question in Riza’s eyes, so Rebecca went on, “Nobody thinks Jean or I are worth a damn. Everyone says he’ll get bored and cheat, or our marriage is going to be a disaster, or that we’ll be miserable… so many people don’t even think the baby is his. The bets I’ve heard people make… god, Riza… it hurts so much. Why… why do people think I’d even  _ want _ to cheat on him? I… love him so much it hurts. I’d do anything for him, and I’m so lucky that he’s the father of my baby. He’s everything I’ve ever wanted. I… I think he feels the same way. I… don’t know why people are being so awful.”

“Well I… might not know all the answers,” Riza began slowly, choosing her words carefully. “But I  _ can _ tell you that he does feel the same way. I know it.”

“How do you know?” Rebecca asked.

Riza smiled. “We had something of a mini bachelor party for him the last time the team went out for drinks. He… may have had a little bit too much.”

Rebecca waited, figuring Riza was getting to her point. “When it all hit him, he started crying and telling us all how much he loves you.”

“What?” Rebecca blinked, surprised. Jean was affectionate, sure, but he tended to not wax poetic about it or be overly emotional in public.

“Yeah. He spent at least an hour telling us everything he loved about you and the baby, when he wasn’t crying too hard to talk,” Riza chuckled. “Let’s just say, there’s a lot of things he loves.”

Rebecca felt her cheeks flush as she stammered, “I… I mean, I… I knew he loved me, but…”

“You’re letting the naysayers get to you,” Riza said. “Please, Becca, if you do anything about all the things people are saying, don’t let it be that.”

“What?” Rebecca asked weakly.

“I… know it’s hard. Believe me, I know,” Riza whispered, voice hoarse. She cleared her throat, collected her emotions, and went on, “But nothing anyone says should change your relationship with Jean. You said you love him, and that you know he loves you. You said you’re happy to be marrying him and having his baby.”

Rebecca nodded. Riza went on, “Then fuck what anyone else thinks. Don’t let them affect how you feel about Jean and how you know he feels about you.”

There was a strange emotion in Riza’s eyes, and it took Rebecca a moment to place it as pain. She managed, “You… you’ve dealt with the same thing, haven’t you?”

“It’s… this isn’t about me,” Riza shook her head, avoiding Rebecca’s gaze.

“God, Riza, I’m so sorry, I should’ve realized,” Rebecca said, eyes welling with tears again. “If people have been talking shit about Jean and I… I can’t even imagine what they’ve been saying about you and Mustang all these years.”

Riza tried to smile and almost succeeded, her own eyes shiny with tears. “I refuse to let it change anything. I know the nature of our relationship, how I feel and how he does. I don’t care what anyone else thinks.”

“How do you do it?” Rebecca asked. “I… it’s just… hearing it all the time…”

“I won’t lie, it nearly ended our relationship,” Riza admitted. “You can only bear that burden for so long. Hearing all those horrible things… having to hear the lies and accusations and everyone misunderstanding us… it was hard. It  _ is _ hard. Roy and I tried to hide it from each other, how much we were hurting. It only drove us apart. Once we faced it together, though, it got a lot easier. I realized that one ‘I love you’ from him has more weight than fifty accusations of me sleeping up the ranks. It’s… still hard, but… better.”

Rebecca nodded, unable to speak. Of course Riza knew the best way to handle it — a united front, not suffering in silence. She’d tried to hide this all from Jean, but he’d likely heard some of it, too. It was best that they confronted it as a team. She resolved to talk with him about it soon.

“Like I said, Becca. If anyone deserves to be happy, it’s the two of you. Please don’t let this ruin what you have,” Riza insisted.

“I won’t,” Rebecca promised, her voice quiet but firm. “I love Jean and the baby too much.”

Riza smiled, before growing serious again. “Promise me you’ll talk to Jean. He deserves to know, and you don’t deserve to go through this alone.”

“I promise, Ri. I’m… I’m not going to let anything ruin this for us. This is too important. He and I have both made a lot of mistakes, but I’m not going to let this be one of them,” Rebecca insisted.

Riza nodded, hugging Rebecca again. “I’m glad to hear that.”

“Now, uh… maybe we should go back out there and apologize for, uh, making a scene,” Rebecca laughed, embarrassed.

“Maybe. Let’s get you cleaned up first,” Riza smiled, pulling a handkerchief from her purse, wetting it in the sink, and beginning to dab at Rebecca’s ruined makeup.

Rebecca smiled.   
  


Rebecca opened the oven to examine her gourmet dinner of the week, a roast chicken with vegetables. It wasn’t much, an extremely simple and humble meal, but it was something different than the pasta or rice they had nearly every day for dinner. They could afford better, sure, but they’d decided that a few months of the same drab dinner would pay off when they had saved plenty of money to care for their baby.

Jean walked in as Rebecca pulled the meal from the oven, looking haggard and exhausted. Rebecca teased, “Going to be awake enough for dinner?”

“Mm,” Jean grunted, kicking off his boots and shuffling towards their room.

Rebecca frowned at the uncharacteristic greeting but returned her attention to cooking, slicing the chicken and putting portions on their plates. She’d just set them down on the table when Jean emerged from their room in his pajamas, sitting down heavily in his chair at the kitchen table.

He began to dig into his dinner without a word, making Rebecca frown again. She sat down in her own chair, asking, “How was work today, tiger?”

“Fine,” Jean shrugged, hardly pausing between bites.

“...Did that meeting you were worried about go well?” she pressed, frown only deepening.

“Mm-hmm,” Jean nodded.

“...Was the lunch I packed okay?” Rebecca went on. Jean was staring down at the table, avoiding her gaze, pushing his vegetables around on his plate. He wasn’t eating any more at this point, though he tried very hard to make it look like he was.

“Yeah,” Jean said.

Rebecca sighed, frustrated. Something was definitely wrong, eating at Jean. He was never this quiet and distant. If she kept going the way she was, she’d never get an answer out of him.

She decided to change tactics, taking a bite of her chicken and asking, “So, are you and Heymans still planning on running off and eloping together?”

“Mm-hmm,” Jean mumbled, still pushing his food around on his plate.

“Jean, what’s wrong?” Rebecca demanded.

He mumbled something else noncommittal, so Rebecca slammed a hand down on the table and snapped, “ _ Jean! _ ”

Jean jumped, yelping in surprise and nearly falling out of his chair. “What? What?”

“What’s wrong?” Rebecca demanded again.

“Nothing! Nothing’s wrong!” Jean protested.

“Bullshit!” Rebecca scowled. “You didn’t say shit to me when you came home, you couldn’t chow down fast enough until I asked how work was, and you haven’t been listening to a single thing I’ve said!”

“Look, sweetie, I’m sorry,” Jean sighed. There was exhaustion clear in his face, in the dull look in his eyes. “It’s just...been a really long day, okay?”

“What happened?” Rebecca asked yet again, softer this time.

“I...don’t want to talk about it,” Jean shook his head.

Rebecca was quiet a moment. She hated seeing Jean upset like this, trying to bottle it up inside, rather than letting her help. It was something they were working on, something Jean tried so hard to not do, but when he was deeply upset, it was a reflex she knew he couldn’t help.

Tentatively, she went on, “I, uh...I was at the office today to give the General some paperwork. He said something I think might brighten your day a little bit?”

“Oh?” Jean asked, looking up from his plate again.

“He said you’d been reminding him of Brigadier General Hughes lately, with how you’ve been talking about the baby,” Rebecca said with a small smile. “I know you’ve been so worried about being a good father, so…”

She trailed off, realizing her words had had the opposite effect from what she’d anticipated. Jean’s fists were clenched, his knuckles white, and his body was tense. She whispered, “Jean? What...what’s wrong? What did I say?”

“I...being...being like Hughes...is exactly what I’m afraid of,” Jean gritted out, his hands shaking.

“What?” Rebecca asked, startled.

He finally looked up, eyes bright with tears, lip quivering. Rebecca recoiled, surprised by the pain and desperation clear on his face. He managed, voice trembling, “I...Becca, I...I don’t want to abandon you! A-and what about the baby? I...don’t want them growing up without a father...I...not...n-not like Elicia…”

“Abandon us?” Rebecca echoed. “Jean, we both know you’d never abandon us. What are you talking about?”

“Hughes wouldn’t have ever abandoned Gracia and Elicia, either!” Jean cried, tears starting to slide down his cheeks. “Fuck, he would’ve done  _ anything _ to stay with them! And he’s gone and they’re still here!”

“Jean, please,” Rebecca pleaded, worried. “It’s gonna be okay. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that!” Jean shook his head violently, squeezing his eyes shut. “I can’t promise it, and you can’t promise it. I...what...what if…”

“What if what?” Rebecca asked. “Jean, you’re scaring me...”

“I’m a soldier, Becca. What if I die in action?” Jean practically sobbed. He was looking at her again, something broken in his eyes, tears freely streaming down his face. “I… I can’t lose you. I can’t miss anything with our family, with the baby. But… I...something...something might happen, and… I…”

Rebecca was silent for a long time, reaching across the table and taking Jean’s hands in hers. Finally she said quietly, “I don’t know, Jean. I won’t promise you nothing will happen because...y-you’re right, I don’t know. But it’s so much safer now. The war is over, the Homunculi are gone...Amestris is peaceful now. You’re one of Mustang’s men; it’s not like you’re going to be sent to Briggs, or the southern border. You’re here in Central now. Please, love, please...don’t worry about that. Don’t think about that. If you do, it’s all you’re going to think about, and...there’s not really a point in living in fear all the time.”

“I…” Jean started, then stopped. He squeezed her hands tighter and managed, “I love you so much, Bec. God, I… I don’t have the words to say how much I do. There...there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you…”

Rebecca gave his hands a comforting squeeze as well, saying gently, “Then don’t worry about us. All I want you to do is be happy and be here, with me and the baby. You can’t do that if you’re worried about what might happen. We’re a family now, remember? Whatever happens, whatever gets thrown at us, we’re gonna handle it. Together. You and me, and someday soon, the baby too. We’re a family. We’ll make it work.”

“I...you...you and the baby deserve better,” Jean insisted, eyes wide and unfocused as he stammered on. “I’m...I’m going to be a horrible father, and an even worse husband, and...I’m just going to ruin everything for both of you, and…”

“Why on earth would you think that?” Rebecca demanded.

“I...why shouldn’t I? Everything I’ve ever done has crashed and burned, all my relationships were fucking failures...I mean, fuck, the last person I dated before you tried to kill me, and she wasn’t even human!” Jean’s voice was trembling again.

“Jean,” Rebecca pressed. “Why do you actually think that?”

“There...I...everyone’s just been talking, and…” Jean sighed.

Rebecca frowned — of course Jean had heard his fair share of horrible gossip, too. She’d tried to keep it from him, when he’d been suffering just as much as she had. And it didn't help that the gossip he'd been privy to played on the insecurities he'd already felt before he even proposed. Riza was right, facing things together was the way to go, was the way to prevent situations like this one.

“Jean, love, you  _ know _ that everyone else is full of bullshit,” Rebecca began gently.

“Do I?” Jean protested. “They’re...they’re really not. I...I am a fuck-up. I  _ am _ going to be a horrible husband. I couldn’t keep a relationship longer than a couple months before I met you, and when there were issues, I’d try to fuck my way out of them. I...I don’t know what to do when something goes wrong! A-and I...I mean,  _ fuck _ , I don’t know the first thing about being a dad. I...I’m gonna do such a shitty job. You two...deserve so much better than that.”

“Jean…” Rebecca tried to cut in.

He persisted, “I mean, I’m such a fuck-up that half the fucking command doesn’t even think I’m going to go through with this! I’m either gonna get cold feet and break it off, or...or leave you at the altar, or...cheat on you. Fuck, Becca, I love you so fucking much, I’d never do that. But I guess I must just be that awful, and so bad at showing it that nobody thinks that. You...deserve somebody who can actually show it, and doesn’t ruin everything he touches.”

Rebecca let go of Jean’s hands, rising and walking to his side of the table. She pulled him to his feet and kissed him fiercely, her hands soft and gentle on his cheeks. When she broke the kiss she demanded, “Do you think I’m awful and a mess and ruined?”

“Well, n-no,” Jean shook his head, looking confused.

“Do you think the baby is?” she went on.

“N-no,” he shook his head again.

“Then how the hell do you ruin everything you touch?” Rebecca demanded. “Jean, don’t you see how much  _ better _ you’ve made my life? And all your friends’ lives? Hell, you and I  _ made _ a life. How can that possibly be ruining everything?”

Jean tried to stammer out an answer, but she continued, “It doesn’t matter what reality is. People are  _ always _ going to say shit and start shit. People think you and Heymans were fucking when you were at the academy, they think Riza’s sleeping her way up the ranks, and they don’t think this baby is even yours. That doesn’t make any of it true. So fuck that, and them. What matters, what’s really important, is  _ us _ . You, and me, and our baby. I don’t want to hear another word about you not being a good father or husband. You won’t be a good one. You’ll be the best.”

“I...don’t deserve you,” Jean finally managed, a small, hesitant smile finally appearing on his face.

“And I don’t deserve you. But here we are,” Rebecca smiled back. “Sometimes we don’t get what we deserve. Sometimes we get better. I don’t know what I did to get you, but I’m glad I did.”

Jean hugged her close, pressing his lips to her hair. After a long moment he murmured, “I...still think you deserve better than me. But...I’m going to work hard. I’m going to get there, and I’m going to be the man you and our baby ought to have.”

“I know you will. You already are,” Rebecca said gently. “I’m not perfect, either. I’m going to make mistakes. But we’ll get through them, together.”

Jean hummed in agreement, still holding her tight. He replied, “The first thing I’m going to do is never let gossip rile me up like that again. I don’t care what anyone thinks, except you and the baby, once they...well, once they have an opinion, I guess. And, well, maybe Riza and the General and the guys.”

“I know. They count as family, too. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about us,” Rebecca smiled. “Besides, we can have fun with the ridiculous rumors.”

“Whoever finds the craziest rumor of the day doesn’t have to do dishes?” Jean half-asked, hope in his voice.

Rebecca laughed. “That’s fair. I hope you like doing dishes, tiger.”

“Not a chance,” Jean chuckled. “I’ve done enough dishes for you these past few months to last a lifetime.”

“Well, if you don’t want to do the dishes, you’d best either start making dinner, or find some good damn rumors,” Rebecca teased. “And I don’t want food poisoning, so we aren’t having you cook again anytime soon.”

“I’m a great cook,” Jean whined. “The food poisoning was  _ one time _ , and I was the one that got it!”

Rebecca laughed, earning a petulant whine from him. They stayed that way a while, content in each other’s arms, before Jean asked, “...Becca?”

“Yeah?” she replied, perfectly happy in the warmth of Jean’s embrace, her cheek against his chest.

“Thank you. For listening, and calming me down, and all that,” Jean said. “I...I guess the stress just finally got to me.”

“That’s what family’s for,” Rebecca said. “The guys, and Riza, spent a lot of the past few weeks helping me out, too. Of course I’d be here to listen to you.”

“I love you,” Jean said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “More than anything.”

“I love you too,” Rebecca smiled.

After a long, peaceful silence, Jean continued, “...Did you know that apparently, some of the corporals think I’m going to run off with Catherine Armstrong?”

“...Alex’s younger sister?” Rebecca asked, puzzled. “Didn’t you go on a date with her?”

“Ha! I tried. She said no,” Jean laughed. “As if I’d ever want General Armstrong for a sister-in-law. Family dinners would be terrifying.”

“I don’t know, I heard she likes you,” Rebecca teased.

“Yeah, well...still. I thought it was pretty funny,” Jean chuckled. He hesitated, then asked, “...So, do I get out of dishes?”

“A warrant officer said I’m going to secretly marry the Führer because the baby is his,” Rebecca snorted.

“...So that’s a no?” Jean sighed.

“Do the damn dishes,” Rebecca scowled. Jean sighed and obediently picked up the dishes, trudging towards the sink. She felt a little twinge of guilt, so she added, “...Then, maybe, we can snuggle? I’m tired and I could use some time with my fiancé.”

Jean brightened instantly. “I can do that. I’ll get these done quick.”

Becca began her waddle to their room, smiling. It had been a long, hard few weeks, battling rumors and insecurities and fear. But now that they were in it together, facing them as a team, there was nothing they couldn’t handle. No matter what challenges they faced, Becca would have Jean, and he would have her.

They had their family, and that was all that mattered.


End file.
